


The First Is The Hardest

by Takaska



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Surgery, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 10:31:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14162898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Takaska/pseuds/Takaska
Summary: A simple telling of the beginning of Julian's war doctor career, and the loss of his first patient.





	The First Is The Hardest

He was 19 when he was in the thick of the war.

When it started, he was still fresh from Nevivon- travelling and offering his services to the places he passed. Nothing exciting, mostly farm-related injuries, animal bites, sick cattle or family pets. Occasionally something sprained, a handful of times broken limbs that just needed braces, but his skills were enough to help everyone who sought him out.

The war began, and he felt an odd tug in his heart. He knew he had to help, he was one of the best doctors his patients had ever seen! Surely the military efforts could use someone with his talent, and he knew his confidence could carry him pretty far.

He was immediately taken under the wing of an older doctor named Doris. She was in her early 60s, but as spry as Julian was, and his youthful arrogance was matched by her no-nonsense lifestyle. Several doctors, her included, had only returned to Vesuvia for extra supplies. Doris had been, not a week prior, in the thick of the field and was familiar with the tents full of speared and groaning soldiers. She wanted to prepare Julian for it.

That didn’t mean it sank in, not until he actually saw it. After only a few days, his attitude had wavered and fallen. He was quiet, he helped her on amputations, and only handled the basic injuries on his own. Julian had never seen so many severed limbs, bloodied bodies, gaping wounds… he had relied on his confidence to take him far, but it seemed to abandon him once he thought about anything.

Doris stayed by his side, she ate beside him in the mess tent- even though he hardly touched his for the first few meals. She had promised to take him under her wing, even though he had initially claimed he didn’t need a ‘babysitter’ as he put it. She had seen dozens of people with that attitude, and they were always the most shellshocked of anyone. Julian was no exception, though he had sure tried to be.

After nearly two weeks, his wry sense of humor came back, to be a defense mechanism. He would joke with patients, tell them stories of the few places he’d been, even fairy tales from his hometown. People were glad to see him and his smile in the times he showed it. He could never bring himself to joke or smile when helping stitch up wounds, and for that Doris was grateful. He just helped her whenever she needed him, and often stayed behind to help clean the wounds properly while she disinfected the tools with what they had.

It was the sixteenth day he was in the field that there was a sudden influx of much more severe wounds than Doris and the other practiced doctors could handle. In the middle of helping her amputate a badly wounded arm, another soldier ran in and shouted for help. He had the battered, bloody body of a comrade in his arms, and Doris made a noise of frustration before she ordered the body put on an empty table in the tent, and she told Julian to handle it.

He nodded, eyes wide, and instructed the soldier to leave, he could find him later when the surgery was over. Reluctantly, and at a glare from Doris, he agreed and walked out as Julian frantically washed his hands of the other soldier’s blood before grabbing extra tools and removing the tattered clothing from the one in front of him.

Their stomach had been torn up by a mace. Two of the long spikes were embedded deep within their flesh, and Julian quickly tried to clean up the dirt from around them. Thankfully, they were already knocked out, likely from pain or blood loss, maybe both. But they didn’t have to suffer by being awake, at the very least.

Julian was trying hard not to panic- this was the first time he was doing a proper, delicate surgery on his own. He tried to breathe deep and focus, and tried to pry out one of the mace spikes. It caught in the skin, and his stomach sank as he realized the problem: they were barbed at the ends. An exceedingly cruel tactic.

He tried to carefully cut around it, and tried to stem the flow of blood as he went. Breathing hard, he knew he was panicking, but he had to remove the spikes before he could do much else, and so he set his mind on focusing on the upper one, it was less deep and less near important organs. 

He was careful, or he tried very hard to be. The spikes were each about three inches long, and made of steel. He dropped the first extracted one into a pan at his right, and felt himself grow light-headed as he was forced to confront the lower, much worse spike. The stomach had been torn up so badly it was a miracle the organs had stayed in place. 

He knew there were veins and things that he could ruin if he was careless even for a second, and that didn’t help his panic in any way. His hands started shaking, looking  _ inside  _ this person he’d never met before, and all of a sudden Doris was pushing him out of the way, towards the tent flap.

He looked at her, and almost couldn’t hear with how fuzzy everything seemed to be, but she was telling him to leave, get some air. He staggered out, got maybe ten feet before he leaned against a tree and threw up. He had handled broken bones before, even one that protruded in a nasty way, but there was something about this first time seeing… seeing things that shouldn’t see the light of day, ever.

He gasped for air in between his retching, and collapsed against the opposite side of tree, head between his knees.  He was having a hard time getting rid of the image he had just walked away from, and closing his eyes didn’t help all that much.

How long he sat there, he couldn’t say. Eventually, a hand rested on the top of his head, and when he looked up, there was Doris. Her clothes were stained with blood, but her face was gentle. She said there was no shame in being overwhelmed on his first, and especially brutal, surgery. Ruffling his hair, she stepped away and said she’d need him later, but only when he was ready.

Julian dedicated much of his time after that to taking care of post-surgery patients. Doris didn’t complain. She was grateful the soldiers were being looked after, their wounds cleaned. The one Julian had performed his surgery on, he paid close attention to, but it seemed like every time he cleaned the wounds, they came back worse.

The soldier was unconscious for a while, but that didn’t stop Julian from talking to them every time he was at their side.

The same tales of places he’d been, fairy tales from his hometown, funny stories he loved to tell time and again. There were times he swore the soldier smiled, despite being entirely unconscious. Until they  _ were _ conscious, late on the third day. They smiled weakly at Julian and said they had heard him sometimes while they slept, and introduced themselves as Kemian.

They spoke with Julian briefly, grateful for the company. Julian went back the next day, and the next. On the sixth day, their wounds had only gotten worse, and they looked Julian in the eyes and thanked him for keeping them company. Kemian asked if Julian could spend the night at their side, and he couldn’t refuse a dying person.

He gave them some water, and medicine to help them sleep, and they reached out a hand towards his. Hesitantly, he took it, and they smiled and thanked him again before settling down and falling asleep.

Kemian didn’t even make it past midnight.

Doris had gone to check on them, and found Julian sobbing into his hands, and she walked up to him and rested a hand on his head again. She said it would probably always hurt, to think of the first patient he lost, but he had to keep using his skills in their honor.

He couldn’t speak, but he nodded.

So she continued, and said he was one of the best nurses she’d ever had. She trusted him, and knew he had it in him to keep going, keep helping. She put her hand under his chin, and turned his face towards her. Blinking his eyes, trying to wipe the tears, he just looked up at her as she continued. She said he had a gift. A gift that was sorely needed in this time of war. Soon, times wouldn’t be so tough, but she knew he was a very skilled man, and he would do incredible things one day, even if today he felt like giving up.

When he was sitting in the dungeon in Vesuvia all those years later, holding up the cure to the plague… as mad as he was at Lucio for locking him in, he was even more grateful to Doris, Kemian, and all of his other patients that he had worked so hard for.

Julian hoped that wherever they were, they were proud of him.


End file.
